


Alphabet Soup, and Other Snacks

by truthtakestime



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, alphabet soup, team-y goodness, truth's alphabet soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 19,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthtakestime/pseuds/truthtakestime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone loves a good alphabet soup! A collection of team!fics, friendship, banter, and pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for Arwen

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen alphabet soups before, but I never got around to trying one until now; gotta say, this is the most fun that I have had writing in a REALLY long time. (:
> 
> "A" was a lot of fun; a lovely excuse for me to write banter between these two and to have a mini fangirl fest for one of my OTHER fandoms in a fic. There's also a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to Dave the Barbarian (a favorite old kids show). All in all, quite proud of this one.

“Arwen!” Vala stated triumphantly, waltzing into Daniel's office as if she owned the place. It was a combination of the tone of her voice and the particularly sharp click of her boots – heels? – that forced Daniel out of his academic haze. He glanced up at her, blinking and looking rather owlish. Vala liked owls; they were fascinating creatures unique to Earth, and were quite fashionably depicted in jewelry at the moment. And anything that reminded her of Daniel was an automatic bonus.

“What did you say?” he asked with a mild frown, derailing her train of thought. 

Vala shrugged a slim shoulder, grinning brightly. “Arwen,” she repeated. “That's what I want to be.”

“...Be?”

“You know, for that party tomorrow night? The yearly festival of costumes and sugar that everyone on base seems to be so taken with? Which one is it, again? It gets so hard to keep track. Arbor Day...?”

“ _Halloween_ ,” Daniel corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's called Halloween, and I'd give you the etymology of the word if I thought you would listen. Also, how do you even know about Arwen? I would think that mid twentieth-century literature would be a bit outside of your field of interest –”

“Literature?” Vala wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about? Teal'c showed me those wonderful movies that your culture is so fond of; Arwen is quite the heroine! She saves the hobbits and Aragorn, carries an impressive sword, has a _gorgeous_ king willing to do anything for her – you could learn a lot from that, Daniel! – not to mention the stunning physical resemblance.” She flipped her dark hair and winked suggestively. “It's the perfect character for me to play!”

Daniel closed the Ancient text that he'd been studying and swiveled his chair. “Technically, the books came significantly before the movies,” he explained, settling into full-on professor mode. “And while Arwen was an important figure, in the original story she didn't even have any dialogue until the second half of the last book. Her purpose as a character was more of a beacon of hope for Aragorn; someone to fight for and live for even when everything else seemed lost. But she didn't carry a sword or fight their battles like she does in the movies.”

The expression on Vala's face when he paused was something between a pout and a smug grin. It concerned him. He rolled his eyes. “What?”

She shrugged again. “I like the one in the movies better,” she said non-committally. “Also, Teal'c and I are about to come into a bit of money from Colonels Carter and Mitchell.” Vala studied her nails primly. “We had a bit of a bet.”

“A bet?” Daniel repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What bet?”

“...It was nothing important.”

“Vala!”

“Oh, alright!” she huffed, crossing her arms. “We might have made a small wager with them concerning your depth of book versus movie knowledge. Teal'c and I were firmly convinced that you could hold your own with the experts, of course; but Cameron in particular was certain that you would be too buried in your Ancient texts to even realize that the movies had been made. And in the interest of being honest – that's something that I've been working on, you know – I think Samantha only bet against you to lead him on. Quite a neat little con, actually... I might have to buy her a drink for that one...” 

“Vala,” Daniel interrupted with strained patience. “Why were you betting on me in the first place?”

“Hm?” She glanced at him, doing her best to look innocent. “I always bet on you. Loyalty and all.”

“I mean why were you betting _at all_?” he pressed. “You couldn't possibly have gotten that bored that quickly.” 

She bit her lip, eyes shifting away. “Okay, here goes that honesty thing again; I'm a bit short on funds, and I didn't think you would appreciate me borrowing your credit card in order to purchase my costume for the party. I was actually trying to do the right thing, in a way; you should be proud of me! Besides, I bet in your favor.” She folded her hands under her chin, looking pleading even though she didn't need to. 

Daniel signed, cleaning his glasses on the hem of his shirt as he searched for a response that suitably carried across his feelings on the matter. “I'm not mad at you,” he assured her. “Not that I particularly approve of you and Teal'c scamming Mitchell...”

“Oh, that's just harmless fun!”

“...not that I totally approve,” he repeated firmly, “but your heart was actually in the right place. Besides, I actually think a little Arwen might be good for you.”

Vala perked up immediately. “Really? You think so?” 

“Yeah, I do. She's a good influence.”

She laughed. “By your usual logic, she's just a fictional character. What influence could she possibly have?” 

Daniel shook his head, smiling fondly. “Ask Teal'c about Star Wars sometime,” he suggested knowingly. “So, let's see it.”

Vala regarded him cautiously at the sudden switch in topics. “See what?” she asked.

“This Arwen costume that you had to con Colonel Mitchell to get the money for.”

Bouncing off of the desk, Vala's mild suspicion gave way to her signature blinding grin. “Where's your laptop? I found the most fantastic online shopping website with all sorts of Arbor Day – _Halloween_ costumes. I even found one for you!”

“I'm not wearing it if it's leather,” Daniel warned, which was not the same thing as saying 'no'. He turned the computer so that she couldn't see the password he typed in. 

“Well, try to keep an open mind, darling... After all, this festival _is_ one of your major Earth rituals...”


	2. B is for Below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Teal'c and Jack's Brilliant Plan is flawed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted a chance to write Jack, so I went old-school for this one (and thanks to IuvenesCor for the prompt!). Also, it kept my mind off all of the potentially terrible things that could happen while we were being pounded by Hurricane Sandy (thankfully, my street at least wasn't hit bad at all; but overall, my area got it bad). Violent storms, I guess, provide inspiration? 
> 
> Should have the next chapter for you in a week or so. Thanks for reading!

Getting in the water had been Teal'c's idea.

They had been doing a routine surveillance of a potential Alpha Site, and exceedingly boring Alpha site that didn't even have any predators or fish in the lake. Not that any of the team had complained about the lack of wildlife at the time; but Jack had long ago reached the point where he'd have traded being up to his chin in icy-cold water for almost _any_ kind of danger. 

Teal'c had said that the hiding place wouldn't be needed for long; the Jaffa would do their cursory examination and be on their way none the wiser in an hour (that was Jack's wording for it, of course; Teal'c had probably said something profound like “They will not look for us in the water”.). They could certainly stand getting a little damp in that time if it kept them alive and out of the clutches of whatever system lord these particular Jaffa answered to. 

Jack had agreed to the plan. More than that, he'd _liked_ the plan, at first. Carter had voiced some practical misgivings, and Daniel had complained; but that was just Jackson. The temperature had been fairly mild that afternoon, and the water was refreshing. They'd hide as far out as they could stand with their chins still above the surface of the lake, hidden among reeds and some kind of water-fern, and be back on Earth toweling off before dinner. 

Dinner was long since past. The Jaffa had made camp next to the gate, and the temperature drop of both air and water was excruciating. Jack was starting to lose feeling in his hands and feet, and he glared at Teal'c, fully blaming him for their frigid situation. 

Daniel and Sam, he noticed, were not glaring at the Jaffa – who seemed unaffected by the cold – but at the Colonel himself, as if he had personally caused this whole mess. Okay, granted he _had_ agreed to Teal'c's plan; but it wasn't like he'd known that the Jaffa would set up shop and start getting comfortable, cutting off their escape route! That had not been part of Teal'c's Brilliant Plan. 

Jack tried to harden his gaze a little more. “Teal'c,” he hissed, attempting a small move towards his friend that nearly resulted in a spectacular face-plant onto the surface of the lake. As that would have had the dual effect of shattering the calm, and betraying their presence and position, he managed to keep his feet with a minimum of noise and only minor flailing. “Teal'c,” he tried again, this time trying to stay perfectly still.

The Jaffa blinked, turning his head to face Jack. “Yes, Colonel?”

“Any idea how much longer those goons are gonna stick around?” he asked, fighting to keep his teeth from chattering. 

Teal'c frowned deeply. “I do not know what a 'goon' is,” he admitted. “But considering that the scouting party has made camp beside the Stargate, it is unlikely that they will depart until morning light.”

“Morning?” Daniel whisper-squeaked. “Our bodies can't survive these temperatures for that long; we'll freeze!”

“He's right, Sir,” Carter said, her voice trembling with the cold. “The temperature has been dropping rapidly since the sun set. By my calculations, if this current rate continues, it will be below zero on this planet in just under two hours.”

“Two hours.” Jack felt his empty stomach flip.

“We need to get out of the water and find shelter,” Carter continued, “as well as someplace where we can build a fire and it won't be noticed by our boys over there.”

“Okay, fire, shelter, food,” Jack added that last one firmly. “Good list, let's go.”

“You cannot simply emerge from the lake,” Teal'c cautioned, his deep voice sounding especially concerned. “Those Jaffa will not fail to notice you flopping around in the shallows.”

Jack renewed his glare at the man. “I do not _flop_ ,” he said peevishly. 

Teal'c didn't find that comment worthy of reply. “I will go,” he said, glancing at the others. “I will scout us a safe camp and then return for you.” 

“What if we don't last that long?” Daniel voiced the thought on everyone's mind. Jack shot the glare towards him, wishing that he wouldn't point out the obvious flaws in all of their plans.

Teal'c, stoic as ever, merely raised an eyebrow. “Do not fear, Daniel Jackson,” he said as he slipped silently out of the water (how did someone so big move so _quietly_?). “I will return for you shortly.”

“With food!” Jack whispered loudly after the Jaffa as he disappeared into the alien woods. 

Carter dutifully held in the snicker she was feeling. Daniel rolled his eyes and sighed long-sufferingly. Jack took a long, satisfying moment to glare at each of them, then turned the expression towards the spot where Teal'c had set off.

If he died in this freezing weather, Jack was going to be seriously hard-pressed not to kill them all again.


	3. C is for Convalesce. And Cookies. (and Cameron Can't Cook)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Cam can't cook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a tag/missing scene for "Line in the Sand" (an episode that I recently re-discovered and I actually quite enjoy!). I think that this is probably my favorite of all seven of these that I've got done so far. That may change in the next nineteen, but for the moment, this one holds a particularly special place in my heart. The original prompt was "convalesce", but it kind of just snowballed from there...
> 
> (and apparently, I have an obsession with _all the people_ betting on SG1...hm...)

Sam spent about a week confined to the infirmary as she recovered from the Ori staff blast. She was told that she was completely out of it for the first two days; but then she asked for her laptop and Mitchell brought her overcooked macaroons and everything returned to what passed for normal in the life of a recovering SG1 member.

Cam had stayed for most of the afternoon, snacking on his macaroons (“Someone's gonna eat 'em!”) and catching Sam up on the particulars of what she'd missed during that mission on account of the morphine. He didn't tell her that she'd been ready to send her goodbye letters, or that she'd revealed the password to those private files. Sam didn't admit she remembered. 

They talked about the science (“Layman's terms, please!”) and her brilliance in suggesting the crystal and the Prior's inability to screw with the technology. By the time he'd left to 'let her get some rest', Sam's inevitable case of infirmary-blues was much improved, and she was thoroughly worn-out. A nice, danger-less nap seemed like a pretty good idea...

She almost had a heart attack when she woke up, of course; Teal'c was standing over in that silent, vigilant way of his, and opening one's eyes to over two hundred pounds of stoic Jaffa was nerve-wracking on the best of days. But once she got over the initial shock, she was glad to see him. 

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, deciding after some experimental stretching against pushing herself into a more upright position. 

“Not long,” he admitted. “Cameron Mitchel said something about baking a special batch of scones, however; I thought it prudent to be here and discourage his returning with any more ill-prepared baked goods.” 

Sam pulled a face. “He made you try the cookies, too?”

“I believe he burned them,” Teal'c rumbled gravely. 

“Charred macaroons really aren't to my taste, either,” Sam admitted. “Though it was a nice gesture.” 

“In my opinion, the gesture would have been more effective if the cookies were edible.”

Teal'c stayed for several hours. They didn't talk as much as Sam and Mitchell had; they shared the easy, relaxed silence of two people who knew each other better than almost anyone. After a while, though, he convinced Dr. Lam to send an orderly down to the cafeteria to bring them a proper meal as opposed to infirmary food – it was pizza night, and they both liked pizza better than macaroons – which really didn't take much effort since Carolyn was understanding and Teal'c was Teal'c. 

They ate in companionable quiet, broken by a phone call from Jack O'Neill. The general had apparently just been informed of Sam's situation. Amid much blustering and “Dammit, Carter!”'s, Sam got the message that he was glad she was on the mend. 

Sometime after Teal'c had hung up on Jack (“Colonel Carter must rest now, O'Neill.”) and the dinner trays had been cleared out, Sam drifted off again. 

The next time she woke up, Teal'c was gone and Vala was lounging in one of the uncomfortable plastic visitor's chairs, making a face as she bit into a particularly blackened macaroon. She straightened up and grinned when she realized that Sam was watching her. “Have you tried these things?” she asked brightly, waving the hardened cookie in the air. “They're awful!” 

“I know,” Sam said, shaking her head. “But it's his grandmother's recipe; he's very proud.”

“This is my third and I still can't get used to them,” Vala complained, dropping the cookie back into the bag and selecting another. “Do you suppose it's the recipe or the cook that makes the difference?” 

Sam decided that she'd better not answer that. “How are you holding up?” she asked instead. She'd read the official mission reports from the rest of her team, but Vala's had been very clipped and official and utterly lacking in her distinctive Vala flair.

Vala shrugged, taking a tentative bite out of the cookie and deeming it at least marginally palatable (in other words, it didn't go in the bag or the trash). Sam recognized the guarded, brave-face for the world attitude that slid defensively into place. “Oh, you know. It was a classic tale of boy meets girl, boy captures girl and murders villagers, boy hits girl when she refuses to become a zealot for his cause, and boy has a change of heart, kisses girl, and lets her go.” She shrugged. “That's got to be a classic story _somewhere_ on this planet, right?” 

_Brave as ever_. Sam chose not to push. “Yes, I'm sure it is,” she agreed with a non-committal grin. “So tell me, what's been happening on-base since I've been convalescing here?”

If Vala was unwilling to open up about her mission experience, she was nothing if not thrilled to have a willing (captive) audience to whom she could recount all of the base gossip. Over the next few hours, Sam learned more than she ever wanted to about the problems with Dr. Lee's experiments, which nurse had supposedly set her sights on Captain Reynolds, how many dinner invitations Dr. Lam had turned down from Colonel Mitchell (“Cam and Carolyn? Really?”), and who was down in the unofficial-official betting pool concerning Sam's recovery. 

“Really?” Sam was genuinely surprised, and not sure if she should be flattered or annoyed. “They're betting on me?” 

“Well, technically the bet concerns how soon you'll be released from the infirmary, and if the rest of the team will have anything to do with springing you out.” Vala grinned. “I'm betting on us all the way, of course – on you, I mean. On you. Semantics. Isn't that a fantastic word? Daniel explained it to me right before...” She stopped suddenly, seeming to realize what had come out of her mouth. “Well, he taught me what it meant,” she finished lamely. 

They were quiet for a minute, each keenly feeling the loss of their teammate and friend. (Loss, not death; none of them were going to accept that as fact without a body to back it up. And maybe not even then.) 

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw Daniel get drunk?” Sam asked suddenly. 

Vala looked up, her face brightening, and tried not to look too interested. “I didn't think Daniel got drunk,” she said with carefully crafted boredom. “Or did anything fun, for that matter.” 

“Well, he doesn't get drunk very often,” Sam amended, “but there was one time in particular involving a communication error and welcoming ceremony that involved what turned out to be some very strong liquor...”

The rest of Vala's visit was spent reminiscing about their respective adventures with Daniel, fights and fun and all of the little moments that brought the spirit of their friend into the sterile hospital room. By the time Sam was ready to try sleeping again, she was feeling warm and full with the memories, and the bag of macaroons (poor things, they'd never had a chance) had been subtly discarded. 

Vala told her later that she'd fallen asleep mid-sentence in the middle of a story about Cam losing his pants, but Sam didn't remember that. What she did remember later was that every time she'd opened her eyes, one of her teammates had been there, watching over her and making her smile. 

At the end of the day, what more could she really ask for?


	4. D is for Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where there is pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days after I wrote this one, I was poking around through old fic on ff.net and I found something similar to this one (a fantastic little fic called "The Duel" by LannaKitty, which you should all read!), but let it be known that I am not trying to rip off her brilliant idea ;). 
> 
> Also, it is incredibly amusing to write Daniel and Jack arguing.
> 
> (Also, Happy Thanksgiving!! I know that this isn't technically a holiday-themed chapter, but we eat pie at Thanksgiving, so I think it counts. Right?)

“What are you doing?”

Daniel looked up as Jack stalked towards him, his face stormy. Casually, Daniel shifted so that he was blocking Jack's view of the table behind him. “Hey, Jack. What's up?”

“Oh, you know exactly what's 'up',” Jack snapped. “What do you think you're doing?”

Daniel schooled his face into an expression of perfect innocence. “I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Jack scoffed. “Don't give me that 'innocent little me' look, Jackson!” he complained, gesturing vaguely at Daniel's face. “You have the worst poker face in the history of poker! And go fish!”

“No I don't!” Daniel argued, frowning. He'd have to ask Sam about that later. “And anyways, _you_ were late. It's mine.”

“Look, Daniel,” Jack sighed, sounding like he was trying to explain something to a very small child, “you're making a big mistake here. Everyone knows –”

“I really don't think I am.”

Jack glared at him. “Everyone but you seems to know the rules, here. The last piece is mine. The last piece is _always_ mine. Everyone else had the good sense to stop fighting reality a long time ago; now it's just you. So please, don't make this any harder than it has to be. Just hand it over.”

“I don't think so.”

“Excuse me,” Teal'c said, stepping between them to reach for something on the table behind Daniel.

“I will put you in a choke hold, Daniel,” Jack threatened. 

Daniel narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't.”

“Don't push me.”

“Excuse me,” Teal'c said again. They both stopped and looked up at him; it was kind of hard to ignore a Jaffa. “May I ask what it is that you are fighting about?”

“It's not a fight,” Daniel said with forced patience. “It is a simple, logical discussion – on my part anyways – and Jack is upset because he's losing.”

“I am not losing!”

“Forgive me,” Teal'c inclined his head. “What is it that the two of you are 'discussing' so childishly?”

While Daniel spluttered about the 'childish' part, Jack seemed to own the description of their actions. “Pie,” he said proudly. “Daniel is trying to steal my last piece of pie...what is that?” He stared at the tray in Teal'c's hands, and the small plastic plate in the corner that barely held a gorgeous slice of chocolate pie.

Teal'c gave one of his rare grins, the one they'd learned to fear. “I am ending the discussion,” he said, shifting to a one-handed grip on the tray and lifting a fork. 

In four bites, the pie was gone.


	5. E is for Early

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a bit late...I've been having all kinds of problems with my computer this week, but that SHOULD be fixed now. 
> 
> I've been meaning to write something with Tomin for a while now... When I was given the prompt, this was the first image in my head (not to mention the fact that my MOTHER loves Vala and ships Vala/Tomin {which I find endlessly amusing}, so we've been watching lots of those episodes together lately). It's not really a "team-y" fic, but I like it still.

There was a subtle shifting of bed-springs, and a loss of warmth by her side that first alerted Vala that something had changed. She fought the awareness; she was tired, and this sleep had been a welcome reprieve from a bout of raging morning sickness. But her brain refused to re-settle, and she listened to the familiar sounds of someone getting ready for their day. 

Booted but quiet footsteps crossed the room to stand by the window, and a sliver of warm light fell over her face. Sighing, Vala gave up on all pretense of trying to sleep and opened her eyes, blinking against the light. 

There was a soft sound of regret from the man standing shadowed by the curtains. “Vala, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?”

She managed a tired half smile. “No, I was up anyways.” It wasn't an outright lie. “What are you doing? You should still be in bed.”

“I was summoned early this morning.”

“I didn't hear anyone.”

“No, it was not a person. The Ori gave me a dream; they said I was to report early, that they have a special task for me.” 

Vala sighed. “Tomin, come back to bed.” 

Tomin shook his head. “I must go.” 

“Why?” Drawing on her acting, the skills of an old life and a different place – not that it was a stretch for her to be worried – she allowed one pitiful tear to fall. It didn't take much effort at all to make it true. 

Tomin left the window and sat on the edge of the bed. He brushed her bangs back gently. “I will return,” he promised. “But I must go now.” 

“Can't you stay just once, for me?” she pressed, catching his hand and holding it more tightly than she probably should have. But this was the same conversation that they had every day; she always did this, and he never complained. 

“Are you ill?” Tomin asked, suddenly concerned. “Should I send for the Prior?”

“No!” Probably shouldn't have reacted that strongly, either; but she couldn't help it. Every time she thought of the Priors, she went back to that place, chained in the middle of that monument watching the fire burn towards her and feeling the heat, the pain, everything shattering into terrible agony as she burned...

She drew in a deep breath, clinging to Tomin's hand and anchoring herself in the here and now. There was no fire, she was safe. “No,” she repeated, calmly this time. “It's just the baby making me uncomfortable again.” 

The worry in his face smoothing out, Tomin leaned over and pressed a kiss to her linen-covered stomach. “Not for much longer now,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the idea of a child (his child, he thought). “Soon, this baby will be born, a great blessing to us both. Hallowed are the Ori.” He kissed Vala's temple gently. “I will see you tonight,” he promised once more before slipping out of the room. 

Vala stood by the window and watched him leave, a heavy feeling in her chest. She wish she'd stayed asleep.


	6. F is for Family, Friends, and Fortitude (and by "Fortitude", we mean Teal'c)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where "Aliens vs. Earthlings" laser tag happens. And then it doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this one. "C" is still my favorite, but this one is probably close. And honestly, if you put the five of them in a laser tag arena together, would you REALLY expect all of these combat veterans to play by mere rules? ;)

It was Vala who first suggested laser tag as a team bonding activity. 

How she'd even learned about the game they would never know – although Teal'c was generally recognized as the culprit – but she seemed convinced that it was the perfect activity for them to participate in on one of their rare days off. “It'll be fun!” she insisted to her skeptical teammates. “If I understand it correctly, it's a game that people on your planet play to mimic combat situations and encourage bonding and team spirit.”

“It's a kid's game,” Daniel argued. He had balked at the idea from the very start, bemoaning the fact that they had even given Vala a say in their activities. 

“I believe that there are professional, adult teams who participate in this sport,” Teal'c countered calmly, earning a glare from him. 

“Come on, please?” Vala begged, hands folded under her chin in a gesture of pleading. “We can play Aliens versus Earthlings; it'll be great!” 

“Are you sure that's fair?” Mitchell asked, just a little too casually. “There's three of us, and only two of you.”

Vala's brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Hm, you're right. I hadn't thought of that... What do you say, Muscles? Should we let them bring another team along so that they have a fighting chance?”

“I believe that this would greatly even the odds so that they fall to neither team's favor,” Teal'c agreed gravely. 

“Even the odds?” Mitchell spluttered. “Okay, you know what? You're on! And your butts are going _down_ , right Jackson?”

Daniel was staring at Cam with an expression of vague horror. “You're not actually considering this, are you?”

“Have you been listening to any of this conversation? They threw the gauntlet, they're putting our entire planet down. We have to defend the Earth, man!” 

“Isn't that something that we do every day, in real life?”

“Look at it this way, Daniel,” Vala suggested, leaning on his shoulder. He shrugged her off. “If you fail, it'll only permanently shame you three because a couple of aliens beat you at another one of your silly games; but no one will actually be hurt in the process. That's a step up from our usual days!” 

“She's right, Daniel.” He turned around to glare at Sam, who seemed to be trying especially hard to keep a straight face. He'd almost forgotten she was there, she had been so quiet up until now. 

“Not you too,” Daniel groaned. 

Mitchell thumped him on the shoulder. “Four against one, Jackson; you're over-ruled. Laser tag is on!”

Vala might have suggested something about keeping the four-on-one odds against Daniel for the actual game, but he wasn't sure, as he was too busy looking for something appropriately hard to slam his head against. Repeatedly. 

~*~

It was nearly two weeks before they were able to make good on the challenge. First, there was a mission gone bad with a contingent of particularly scrappy Ori warriors, then there was an emergency meeting in DC that called half of the team away for four days, during which time Vala did vicious if brief battle with the common cold. By the time they were finally granted their leave, they were almost ready to postpone the war again. 

It was Sam who insisted that they go for it. “This is something that I've been looking forward to, believe it or not. We all need a chance to unwind.” She shrugged. “Besides, half the base is betting on this thing, and I'd hate do disappoint them.”

Vala grinned at her. “But won't they be disappointed when the aliens defeat three of their most brilliant?” she asked, blinking innocently. 

“I still don't think that the whole three-on-two thing is fair,” Mitchell spoke up, prompting raised eyebrows all around. “What?”

“You're only saying that because you'd rather team up with Teal'c for this,” Daniel commented dryly. 

“Well, yeah! No offense, Jackson, but I'd really like to win this thing.” 

“Hey! None of that; we have numbers and tactics on them, and we know the game.” Sam threw a cheeky wink at Teal'c and Vala. “We can take 'em.” 

“Tough words, Samantha.” Vala rolled her eyes. “Care to back that up with a little wager?” 

“What did you have in mind?”

The bet included something about dinner, who was paying, and the evening attire for the losing team, to which both Daniel and Cam protested loudly. Teal'c said nothing, but a slow, satisfied smile sat on his lips. 

~*~

They got kicked out of the laser tag arena. 

It had started out fine; they'd gotten there on time, paid, and gone in with only one offhanded comment about the teams being a bit uneven. But within the first five minutes Sam and Mitchell had begun investigating how to unbolt the barriers from the floor and move them for better coverage, Vala was trying to climb said barriers and circle around on them from the back, and Teal'c had secured himself in the rafters of the converted warehouse and was calmly taking potshots at Daniel, making him jump every time. He looked around for the source of the attacks and ended up blaming Vala, which resulted in her trying to jump down on him from her considerable height atop the walls. 

Far too soon, the bright overhead lights came on, and there was a deep voice over the PA system asking very politely that they leave and never come back. 

“Well that was no fun,” Vala pouted as they left the building. “How was I supposed to know that climbing the walls and jumping on people was against the rules?”

Daniel rubbed his temples, feeling a headache building. “Because they have the rules printed all over the building. They're on every wall, Vala!” 

“You mean you actually read those things?” she scoffed. “Why bother?” 

“So that we don't get banned from the premises five minutes into our game next time? If we ever do this again, which I sincerely hope we won't.”

“Well I wasn't the only one not following the rules!” Vala argued in her defense. “ _Your_ teammates were trying to unbolt the obstacles from the floor! Defacing public property! That was obviously wrong, besides which they could never have gotten away with it in a real combat situation.” 

“Indeed.” Teal'c nodded. 

It didn't escape Mitchell's notice. “If you wanna talk about rule breakers, how about Tarzan here?” he jerked a thumb at Teal'c. “Hiding in the ceiling. How did you even get up there in the first place?”

“I believe that a performer of magic does not reveal his methods.”

“That's right, Muscles; you tell him!”

“So I guess all bets are off now?” Sam suggested as they climbed into the car. “We didn't really play for long enough for either team to score.”

Cam glanced at her suspiciously as she turned the key in the ignition. “What about disappointing the boys back home?” he asked. “I thought they were betting on us!” 

“They are; but my money was on a flat-out tie, and I think we can safely call getting kicked out a tie.” 

“I disagree,” Teal'c countered calmly. “I believe that I was able to incapacitate Daniel Jackson a minimum of eighteen times. Between the three of you, you were only able to hit Vala Mal Doran or myself...twice. I believe that this makes us victorious.” 

“That doesn't count!” Daniel protested, straightening in his seat and glaring at Teal'c over the top of Vala's head. “You cheated!”

“I acted appropriately and wisely in a combat situation.”

“Appropriately?” Mitchell squawked. He turned as much as his seat-belt would allow to glare at Teal'c as well. “How is hiding in the ceiling appropriate behavior for laser tag? Or for a decorated Jaffa warrior, for that matter?”

“There's no reason to bring the Jaffa as a whole into this,” Same chided, making a weak attempt to mediate. “They have nothing to do with the fact that he and Vala were cheating.”

“We are not the only ones at fault in that regard, Colonel Carter,” Teal'c reminded her in a matter-of-fact tone.

Vala raised a tentative hand from between the Daniel and Teal'c in the back seat. “I can switch with Sam and drive if you all want to continue this silly argument...” 

Four pairs of eyes – one in the rear-view mirror – turned towards her. “No!” four voices chorused. 

“Fine!” she huffed, crossing her arms and flopping back as much as she could squished between the boys. She landed half on Daniel. 

“Ow!” he complained, tugging his arm out from underneath her. “Could you not?” 

“There's not enough room back here! I honestly don't understand why your world insists that such cramped vehicles are acceptable modes of transportation.” 

“At least it's not a cargo ship that's literally disintegrating under us!”

“Settle down, kids!” Mitchell admonished. 

Vala frowned. “You started it!”

“That’s it.” Sam pulled a sharp right turn, throwing them all around in their seats. “I don't know about you guys, but I need a drink.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Daniel grunted, shoving Vala off of him a second time. 

They ended up at a little hole-in-the-wall diner with a shabby exterior but, according to Sam, 'a fantastic wine cellar'. Vala had commented that she didn't think any of them but Mitchell really drank, which prompted another lengthy 'discussion' (argument) in which the Earthlings defended themselves and their personal tolerance to alcohol. Vala egged them on, and Teal'c watched the whole thing unfold with amusement. 

Somehow, another bet was placed, and Daniel was suckered into picking up the check (though thankfully, the subject of 'dinner attire' for him and Cam was not brought up again.).

At some point in the middle of their third round of beers and a fine-points discussion of future laser tag rules, Cam turned to Teal'c. “We are one crazy, amazing, dysfunctional family, aren't we buddy?”

Teal'c looked around the table and threw the Colonel a brief, knowing grin. “Indeed,” he rumbled.


	7. G is for Grumble and Gremlins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Jack loses his keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I adore writing about Vala, I've been missing the old team lately, too.

“I can't find my keys!” Jack complained, searching through the minimal clutter on the briefing room table and patting all of his pockets Columbo-style. He came up with sunglasses, a pocket knife, half a pack of gum, three paperclips (ridiculous; he never bothered with paperclips), and a broken pen; but no keys.

“Maybe you left them in your quarters, Sir,” Sam suggested helpfully. “None of us have had the time to go home in a couple of days.”

“Nah, that's impossible,” he scoffed, debating the likelihood of finding the keys if he shook out his boots. But his steps didn't jingle, so that was out. “I never just leave my keys laying around; I _always_ have them.” 

“Even on missions?” Teal'c asked. 

Jack shot him a withering glare. Teal'c was impassive. “ _Yes_ , even on missions. It's like another set of dog tags, or like having my eyebrows on.” Sam muffled an undignified snort. “I always keep my keys on me,” Jack insisted, ignoring her, “so that no one gets into any place they're not supposed to.” Like Charlie had. But they never talked about Charlie. 

Daniel seemed to miss the subtext completely. “If you're sure that you never put them down, then maybe it was the gremlins who took them,” he suggested dryly. “They've been known to do that, you know; sneak into SG team's rooms and offices in the dead of night and steal things. Keys, books, glasses.” He eyed Jack. “You know how it goes.”

“Oh, ha ha ha,” Jack grunted. “There are no such things as _gremlins_ , Daniel.”

“I don't know. They seem to enjoy raiding my office and rearranging it for no good reason.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at the archaeologist. “Daniel, did you steal my keys?”

“Jack, did you rearrange all of the books in my office so that the shelves look like rainbows?”

“Well, I'd hardly call those dusty old things a rainbow of color...”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? If I admit that I did it, will you give me my keys back?”

Daniel crossed his arms. “Did you do it?”

“Yes! Okay, yes, I rearranged your bookshelves so that they looked more interesting. I'm a bad friend, I'm sorry. Now give me my keys back.” He held out his hand expectantly. 

“I don't have them.”

Jack blinked. “Are you kidding me?” He threw his hands in the air. “Then why the heck did I just tell you that?”

“Because you're a decent human being,” Daniel informed him with a grin, “and you had a change of heart.”

“That sounds nothing like me.” Jack frowned. “So if you don't have my keys, then where are they?”

“Is this what you are looking for, O'Neill?” Teal'c asked calmly, pulling a ring of keys on a Simpsons chain out of his pocket. 

If Jack was the kind of guy whose jaw literally dropped when he was surprised, it would have been hitting the floor. “ _You_ took my keys? That hurts, T.” 

“On the contrary. I believe you dropped them on our last mission; I located them beside the DHD as we were departing. I assumed that you would not be pleased to misplace them.” He inclined his head. “I believe that the phrase is _'Do not mention it.'_ ”

Jack swiped the keys out of Teal'c's big hand, unsure if he should hug him or yell at him. “Why would I ever mention it?”


	8. H is for Holy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Cam's Christmas road trip does not go as planned, and he burns the cookies again, and the driver controls the radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little crack-y, but mostly just fluff for Christmas because I wanted to give you something happy and fun. This took me a long time to write -- probably longer than any of the other chapters so far -- because I am obsessed with Christmas (and team!banter), and there were a million little things that I wanted to fit it. But I'm quite pleased with the result, and shockingly, they all survive the 9+ hour road trip in once piece! A Christmas miracle, eh? *wink*
> 
> Also, Merry Christmas and God bless!! (I know it's a tad early, but it seems anti-climactic to post a holiday chapter _after_ the holiday.)

Cam was starting to wonder if inviting his team home for Christmas had been a good idea. 

No, that was a lie. Having his second family around him for Christmas was something that he wanted, and he thought that they needed. With all of the crap that they dealt with on a daily basis, Cam had always thought it was important that they had downtime to get away from the madness. That wasn't so wrong, right? Besides, he wanted to give their alien teammates a taste of a real Earth Christmas, Mitchell-family style. This would be Vala's first real holiday on the planet! And he had a feeling that Teal'c had spent too many years doing the holiday Jack's way (not that there was anything _wrong_ with Jack's way; but it consisted mostly of beer and takeout and old Christmas movies rather than the sort of togetherness that Cam was trying to foster in his team). 

No, he decided, it was a good idea. It was the road trip part of the plan that he was worried was becoming a problem. 

For the first hour or so, things had been fine. It was early and they were all fairly tired and easily appeased by Starbucks and pastries. There had been some traffic out of the city, but Daniel and Sam had been deep in discussion about some science-y thing or another and Teal'c was busy observing the license plates that they passed – whether to see where they were from or mark them for death for speeding, it wasn't clear – and when the first few flakes of snow started to fall Vala insisted on getting out of the car to marvel at it. Cam had turned on the radio to blast Christmas carols, and all had been right with the world. 

It was his choice in music, funny enough, that led to the first argument. 

“Do you have to play this?” Daniel had asked in a bored tone. He'd drawn the short straw in the seating order for the moment, and he was stuck in the back sandwiched between Vala and Teal'c with a dusty old book balanced on his lap. “It's all that's been playing anywhere since Halloween.”

“Yeah, and now it's Christmas,” Cam reminded him, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. “So suck it up. Besides, driver controls the radio.” 

“He's right, you know,” Vala said absently, still craning her neck to watch the snow falling outside. “All the research that I've done about your 'road trips' suggests that the driver is the one in control.” 

Daniel shot her an irritated glance. “And if _you_ were _from_ Earth, your opinion would be relevant here.” 

Vala huffed indignantly, and Sam defended her. “Daniel, Vala's opinion is just as valid as any of ours, especially because she's new here. She's learning about our culture.”

“She'd probably learn more if her points of reference were a little broader than 'Gossip Weekly' and Teal'c's DVD collection. Not that there's anything wrong with that,” he added quickly when Teal'c shifted noticeably beside him.

“There is nothing wrong with Christmas music,” Sam insisted firmly. “Though I am a little sick of this pop stuff.” she reached over from the passenger's seat, Mariah Carey's voice was cut off suddenly and replaced with an orchestral version of _Carol of the Bells_. 

“Hey! Cameron snapped, flicking the station back to where he'd set it. Mariah was still on her high note. “Driver controls the radio; we just established this. When it's your turn to drive, you get to pick the tunes.”

“Or we could just have quiet,” Daniel pointed out without much hope. “Silent night, anyone?”

“It is neither silent nor dark,” Teal'c corrected him. “Besides, I believe that this music is an integral part of the holiday tradition. Have you not always stressed the importance of cultural traditions?”

“ _Ancient_ cultures, Teal'c.”

“Don't all modern traditions draw from the ancient ones?” Vala asked. “You really shouldn't whine unless you're going to get your facts straight, darling.”

“Don't make me turn this car around,” Cameron threatened when the argument escalated. “Don't think that I won't.”

When the threat didn't have as much of an effect as it should have, Cam realized that it was going to be a _very_ long ride.

ovo

After a lengthy debate, a compromise was finally reached about the music. They went a whole twenty minutes before the next incident. 

“I'm bored,” Vala complained, slumping back in her seat. “Are we almost there?”

“No, we are not. It's a nine hour drive, Vala. Travel time doesn't get any shorter just because it's Christmas.” 

“Don't we have beaming technology?” she pointed out. “We _could_ have gotten there instantly.” 

“The Odyssey's beaming technology is for military or emergency use only, Vala,” Sam explained patiently. By the way that Jackson was rolling his eyes, it was likely that she wasn't the only one who had given this speech to Vala. “As important as team down-time might be, it's not part of planetary security and, as such, doesn't fall under the list of acceptable uses.”

“Relax, Princess. Only six and a half more ours to go.” 

Still trying valiantly to read, Daniel didn't look up as he suggested, “You _could_ just stop complaining and go back to counting snowflakes. That should keep you occupied until something more shiny comes along.” 

“I can't see the snow on the highway,” she pouted, sounding only mildly annoyed with his rudeness. “Maybe if one of you would teach me how to drive, this would be more fun.” She looked around the car expectantly. 

Mitchell kept his eyes firmly on the road. Daniel buried himself deeper into his book. Teal'c's lips quirked in what might have been a grin or a defensive snarl. Sam coughed, which unfortunately drew Vala's attention and begging. “Icy weather _really_ isn't a good time for a driving lesson,” she hedged, seeming grateful that Vala couldn't meet her eyes from behind the seat. “Not really the safest time for a new driver on the road.”

“It's the perfect time,” Vala insisted brightly. “We're bored! And if I learn to drive one of these ridiculous, primitive vehicles in dangerous conditions, then it should be easy to drive in the 'good' conditions, right?” 

Cam decided to put his foot down and spare the SUV. “I rented this,” he said, patting the dashboard (which was now spouting Bing Crosby from its speakers). “Gotta have the thing in good shape when I bring it back.”

“I stole an entire spaceship from you people and got it back in one piece.” 

“Other than the firefight, you mean.”

“Well, yes, but that was Daniel's fault, not mine! Why is driving one measly little car such a big issue?”

“Trust me, now is not the best time,” Cam insisted. “Maybe some day when we're _not_ in a blizzard, Jackson will consider teaching you. Isn't that right, buddy?”

“No.” 

“I believe it is Colonel Carter's turn to take the wheel,” Teal'c interrupted smoothly. “Perhaps Vala can sit up front and observe her on this trip, so that at a later date she might have some knowledge of how to steer the vehicle.”

Teal'c's plan was generally accepted. They pulled into a rest stop and played musical seats for ten minutes as the boys tried to fit themselves into the back seat. Mitchell got stuck in the middle. Sam turned up the classical station. 

It was a full hour before the next disagreement. 

“Is anyone hungry?” Sam asked after a while. Daniel raised his head from his book – he'd finally been able to get some reading done now that Vala was distracted and in spite of the fact that Mitchell was trying to arm-wrestle with Teal'c in the cramped back seat. “Now that you mention it, I could use a bite to eat.” 

“Agreed,” Vala chimed in. 

“I've got just the thing!” Cam declared. Twisting in his seat as much as he could, he rooted around in the luggage area until he came up with a brown paper bag that smelled suspiciously like burned flour. 

Sam wrinkled her nose. “Oh gosh, please tell me you didn't.” 

“Grandma's macaroons,” he announced proudly, fishing one out of the bag.

Vala grimaced. “Have they been sitting in your cupboard since she baked them?” she asked innocently. 

Sam covered a snicker as Mitchell turned red. “It's going to be a very hungry road if you two don't change your minds,” he warned, taking a large bite of the cookie for emphasis. “This is the only snack I packed. Do you know how long it takes to bake two hundred macaroons?”

“Have they been in the oven since your grandmother wrote down the recipe?”

“I don't see what the problem is,” Daniel said, blinking owlishly at his teammates as he reached into the bag. He clearly thought that they had all gone nuts. “Do you all have an aversion to cookies all of a sudden or something?” 

Teal'c's huge hand curled firmly around Daniel's wrist before he could raise the cookie to his lips. “I do not believe that to be wise, Daniel Jackson,” he said gravely. “Colonel Mitchell has not yet mastered the basic skills of baking.” 

Slowly, Daniel lowered the cookie back into the bag. 

“You're all awful critics!” Cameron complained as he chewed his own blackened cookie. “Terrible, starving critics.”

“Oh look, a diner up ahead!” Vala pointed out the snowy windshield. Sam pulled gratefully into the tiny parking lot.. 

It took a steak dinner (on Sam) and half a bottle of Chardonnay all around (“I don't care if it's early, I _like_ Chardonnay!”) to garner Mitchell's forgiveness for the insult to his baked goods; but by the time they piled back into the car over an hour later – Teal'c at the wheel this time – all five of them were full and happy. 

It was long after dark – and several hours after Teal'c had taken the wheel – when they passed through the town of Tidings. Or, as Cam, Sam, and Daniel had agreed to call it, “Christmastown on steroids”. It seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, the largest Christmas-themed tourist trap this side of anywhere. 

Teal'c insisted that they explore. 

“You have _got_ to be kidding me!” Cam protested, peering out the windshield at the evergreen-tinsel-lights-ribbons-carolers scene outside.

“I am most certainly not attempting to be humorous, Colonel Mitchell. I wish to see the town.” 

Mitchell gaped (Though, now that he thought about it, there _had_ been some mention at some point of the big man's love for tourist traps like this. He just hadn't thought it would be a problem on this trip.). “Teal'c,” he finally managed, doing his best to glare imposingly at the Jaffa. Teal'c raised an eyebrow. “It's _cold_. It's late, and there's at least another hour of driving before we even hit Kansas. At this rate, I'm not gonna make it home until Valentine's Day.” 

“I have read favorable accounts of this place on the internet,” Teal'c insisted calmly, his tone brokering no argument. “Also, I believe that the visit will be instructive for Vala Mal Doran concerning the holiday traditions of the Tau'ri.” He glanced back at her. “I believe they will have pie.”

Vala had been slumped against the window, disinterested in their argument, but the mention of pie perked her up considerably. “I say we go for it.” 

“It's a blizzard out there,” Cam tried, appealing to their collective sense of self-preservation. “You don't honestly want to go out there and freeze your butts off poking around through some tacky Christmastown.”

“On steroids,” Carter put in helpfully, siding with Mitchell. For once. 

“I thought that part of the point of this whole ill-planned trip was so that I could experience this Christmas of yours,” Vala argued, buttoning up her jacket in preparation for the cold. “Everything that I've researched about the holiday seems to be represented here. I want to see it.”

Cam could feel himself breaking down, between Vala's puppy-dog eyes and Teal'c's expectant gaze. He sighed. Stupid aliens. “Jackson, what do you think?” he asked, hoping in vain that the good doctor might be able to talk some sense into them. 

“Hm?” Daniel looked up from the book that he was still trying to read, hunched over it with a flashlight. “Oh, you want my vote? I don't really see that there's much of a point; the two of them always seem to win anyways.”

“Yes!” Bouncing with excitement, Vala practically fell out of the car into the snowy night.

Somehow – and Cam was pretty sure that he would never understand it – they ended up in church. 

Presumably, it had something to do with Teal'c's insistence on seeing the _whole_ town, and the handsome and surprisingly persuasive friend that Vala had made five minutes into their snowy explanation. Arthur Drake – who insisted on guiding them around town and showing them the 'heart' of Tidings – had kept up an easy commentary on the sights and people that they passed, patiently correcting the humans and their references to Christmastown (“It's Tidings. But that's a common mistake.”).

Their guided tour had wrapped up at the church, where Arthur had convinced them to stay for a service (at which Cam moaned) and a meal afterward (which quickly shut up up). Half an hour and a weak argument later, here he was; listening to the Christmas story in a candlelit church like he had when he was a kid at Grandma's for the holidays and observing his team with interest.

Sam's expression was quietly happy, and he had no doubt that she was reliving some fond memory. Teal'c's face was unreadable (which was par for the course), but he was observing the reverend with interest. Daniel's face was both interested (in the way that the story was being presented) and a little uncomfortable (which probably had something to do with Vala's head resting on his shoulder in a familiar way). 

Vala, cuddling up against Daniel's shoulder, seemed surprisingly sad as she listened. It was a moment before Cam realized that she was listening to the story of Mary, of Jesus, and thinking of her own child out there in the universe somewhere.

Impulsively – knowing that his grandma would have killed him if she'd seen – he slipped out his phone and texted her a quick _“it's gonna be okay.”_ He hoped belatedly that her phone was on vibrate. 

It seemed that there was yet mercy in the universe, because a minute later she glanced at him across Daniel and mouthed “thank you”. He nodded and gave her a small smile, and was rewarded by one in return before she re-focused her attention on the story. Cam studied the team for a moment longer. 

This was _not_ what he'd been expecting out of this trip. In truth, he had almost been convinced that the whole thing was going to end in chaos (though considering how late they were in getting to his parents, that was still sort of on the table). He had anticipated the arguments and jokes and banter in the car, the bad weather; he'd even prepared for a number of snow-related accidents and problems that they had even a chance of encountering. He had not planned for Tidings, for impromptu exploration or quiet services in an old fashioned church at night. But he found that he didn't mind it. 

Sure, he felt a bit like a little kid again, which was always odd; but seeing the warmth on Sam's face and Daniel's awkward but comforting arm around Vala's shoulders, and the actually visible wonder in Teal'c's eyes, he decided that his whole team could use a little more holy in their lives. And not any of that Ori crap. This was different. 

_This_ was the camaraderie he'd been fostering.


	9. I is for Illuminate. And Insane.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Daniel goes a little nuts, and Jack is imaginary...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this one a bit early as a special holiday treat ;). Merry Christmas to you all!! 
> 
> (This one was TONS of fun to write, by the way. Just about as cracky as I think I can get in a fic!)

“Oh, crap.” 

The words were probably spoken quietly, but they shattered the silence like a gunshot or a dropped glass. They were punctuated by a sound that was very much like breaking glass and metal as Daniel hurled his dead flashlight across the cave. 

A tense moment and some crumbling rocks later, the archaeologist managed to regain control of himself. He let his eyes wander uselessly around the newly black space and tried not to curse (that would be unproductive). He tried to think. 

The cave-in had occurred several hours ago, if he was reading the dim glowing hands on his watch correctly. The rest of the team had already been outside, and they'd spent probably an hour trying to dig him out on their own. They'd been in radio contact then, but they had headed back to the gate for help a long time ago, and they were too far out of range now for Daniel to have any company but his own thoughts. 

Said thoughts were mostly consumed, at the moment, with wondering why it was taking them so long to bring back help, and with utter frustration. Daniel was mad at the entrance for falling in, mad at the supposedly long-lasting flashlight for dying in three hours (and thus depriving him of a chance to study the Ancient writing on the walls more carefully), and even at his friends for taking so freaking _long_ to get him out of here. 

It was ridiculous. More than that, it was _wrong_. Getting sealed into an ancient (Ancient) cave and dying either of suffocation, starvation, or dehydration was not on the mission statement that Daniel adhered to. _Not_ dying was actually a large part of his general philosophy. 

_“Oh, don't be so over-dramatic.”_ That little voice in his head sounded a lot like Jack today. Great. And he'd thought that this day couldn't get any worse. 

“What do you know?” he muttered to the Jack in his head (Oh, and now he was taking to himself, too. What exactly were the signs of crazy?). “You aren't the one trapped in a cave with no food, no light, and no way to study the Ancient carvings on the walls!” 

_“Do you hear this, Daniel? It's the sound of the world's smallest violin, playing the world's saddest song.”_

Daniel glared into the darkness as if he cold telegraph his annoyance to the real Jack if he tried hard enough. “Get out of my head.”

 

_“Hey, I'm not the one who ate all his power bars in the first two hours of being stuck, and who is currently complaining not because he's stuck, but because it's too dark for him to read some silly ancient writing on the walls while his friends do all of the heavy lifting. Talk about selfish.”_

“Jack, I'm warning you! Stay out of my head –”

_“Or what? You'll hit me? That would work so well, Daniel. I'm terrified, really.”_

Was the real Jack this frustrating? Or did the whole invasion of his mind thing make it a hundred times worse? “Shut up. I was just starting to understand the particular dialect that the writing in here was done in when the supposed 'military grade' flashlight crapped out on me. I think that this cave might have been part of a lab. I won't, however, be able to determine that for hours, considering that the rest of you are taking your sweet time getting back to dig me out of here! You have better bring me some decent lighting, my laptop, and a _camera_ so that I can document this.” Nevermind that the voice in his head couldn't bring him anything but annoyance. He thought that the sentiment still stood. 

_“If this is an Ancient lab, shouldn't there be glowy panel things, or some kind of voice command that it would respond to? You know, like open sesame? Abracadabra?”_

“You're ridiculous.” Daniel firmly decided to ignore the voice in his head. It was just his imagination playing with him because of the mind-numbing darkness. All that he wanted was a little light. 

_Light_. That had been one of the Ancient words that he had managed to translate. Or, more precisely, _illuminate_. 

_“There you go,”_ Jack's voice in his head again. _“That's using your old noggin.”_

“Yeah, shut up.” Now where had he seen that word? If he could – somehow – figure out the rest of the section, maybe he'd at least be able to shed some light on the situation. 

_“Oh, well that was punny.”_

“Shut it, Jack.”


	10. J is for Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written as a reaction to the Sandy Hook tragedy. I didn't personally know anyone at the school, but I live within driving distance and it hit me really hard. Heck, it hit everywhere. I just...I still don't know what to think or feel. But this snippet, at the time, was my way of trying to cope and puzzle things out.
> 
> My heart and prayers go out to those families...

From his mandatory post-mission infirmary visit, Jack headed straight for the showers and ignored all attempts from Janet and Daniel to call him back. He didn't want to talk to the, he didn't want to talk to _anyone_. And he certainly didn't want to go into debriefing and rehash what had happened on that planet. Showers, at least, were a legitimate excuse for privacy. 

He cranked the water on as hard and as hot as it could go, wincing as it pounded against sore muscles and he scrubbed his skin viciously. He had to get rid of the filth from that planet; he reeked of it. The events of the past handful of hours played back through his mind in detailed, vivid technicolor. Jack gritted his teeth. 

_“Jack, you can't do this.”_

_Jack didn't even bother to turn around to respond to Daniel's objection. “Don't have a choice, Daniel.”_

_“Yes, you do! Look, you know that I am the first person to insist on respecting another culture, but you can't honestly believe that what they're asking you to do is okay?”_

_“The guy is a murderer,” Jack reminded him tightly, sighting at a tree experimentally with his sidearm. “He killed dozens of their people.”_

_Daniel sighed. “I know that; and yes, he deserves to die for it. But that doesn't mean that you particularly have any obligation to be his executioner! That is not what we set out to do with the Stargate program.”_

_“Kids, Jackson! He killed kids.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Then why are you arguing with me?”_

_“Because you are not an executioner; but once you cross that line you can't come back.”_

_“It's justice,” Jack said harshly, jamming the weapon back into its holster. “And it's already decided.”_

ovo

Jack was slumped on a bench in the locker room, lacing his boots, when he noticed Teal'c in the doorway. He jumped and swore, startled. “How long have you been standing there?” he demanded irritably. 

“General Hammond asked me to ensure that you did not 'get lost' on your way to the briefing room,” he rumbled,. “You are late.”

“Hm.” Apparently the good General was getting impatient. “Tell him I'll be along in a minute. I haven't eaten in a while, I was gonna grab a slice of pie or something before heading over...” The Jaffa raised an eyebrow, shifting minutely. After a minute, Jack sighed. “What? Why can't everyone here just leave me alone for half a second?” 

“You are displeased about the result of the mission,” Teal'c stated bluntly. 

It wasn't really an answer to his question, but it was rather perceptive. “Who wants to know?” 

“You were not wrong, Colonel O'Neill.” 

Jack blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“You are not confident that the decision you made to heed the villager's wishes was correct. You and Daniel Jackson argued about it quite extensively before the man was brought before the council. You were right.”

“We've killed people too, though.” The words came awkward and halting to his lips. He had been wrestling with this since the request had been put to him back on the planet, and he was no closer to a solution. “He was just one more for me in a long line. I...don't like it. I don't like needing to kill.” 

“And this is why it is right that you have done what you have done. It is when you kill and feel nothing that you have crossed a line.

“You are not like him, O'Neill. He was a murderer. You are a hand of justice.” 

“Huh.” It was the most that Jack had heard him speak in a long time. It didn't make what he'd had to do any easier, but it was something to think on. “Thanks, T. Good advice.” 

Teal'c inclined his head gravely. “Indeed.”


	11. K is for Kilts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the chapter title is self-explanatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing "Justice", and working through all of the emotion of that situation, I needed a release. This, I think, is the crack-y-est crack that I've come up with. But honestly, isn't it fun?

“Come on out, boys! Don't be shy.” 

Mitchell could hear Sam and Vala outside of the locker room, giggling. He winced, and glanced at Jack. The General was looking equally uncomfortable, but also faintly amused as he surveyed himself in the mirror. 

Cam cleared his throat. “Sir?” 

“Yes, Colonel?” 

“Permission to speak freely, Sir.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow in the mirror. “Granted.” 

“Well then, with all due respect, Sir...I think I hate you.” 

“That's not very respectful.” 

“You made a bet with _Vala_ , General! And you dragged me into it.”

“Technically, I made a bet with Carter _concerning_ Vala,” Jack pointed out the distinction, tugging on the cuffs of his sleeves. “And I volunteered the rest of you as bait. It was a foolproof plan!” 

“You bet against two _women_! Don't you know what kind of crazy that leads to? Sir?” He tacked that last 'sir' on to be cautious; Jack seemed to be in a fairly good mood, but Cam wasn't about to risk the legendary General's wrath. 

“Is that a hint of doubt I detect, Colonel?” 

“No, Sir. Just questioning the wisdom of this particular plan of action, Sir.”

“Questioning...That always got me into trouble, you know. If you're not careful, I might have to promote you. Wouldn't want that now, would we?” 

Cam hid a wry smile. “No, Sir.” 

“What are you boys doing, _making_ the outfits?” Carter's voice floated through the closed door. 

Vala's followed shortly. “If the four of you don't hurry up, I am coming in there after you! Oh, hush, Samantha! Don't tell me you've never thought about it...”

Trying to ignore them, Mitchell adjusted his own clothes and wondered if running like hell would be an acceptable course of action. “What on God's green Earth possessed you to make this _particular_ bet with them anyways, Sir?”

Jack shrugged, setting a had on his head. “I figured if I won, Carter and I could settle a different long-term wager we have going – no, it's none of your business – and if I 'lost', the three of you having to dress up with me for the day would make the deal more than worth it.” He grinned. “I would've settled for just Daniel, really; but the shade of red you're turning is really quite complimentary. Matches nicely with the Tartan.” 

Cam spluttered, trying to insist that no, he was _not_ turning red, and that the girls would be satisfied with just Jackson and he really didn't have to be involved with this. Daniel – several rows back and most likely trying to disappear – must have heard his name come up. “Jack!” His voice carried sharply through the nearly-empty locker room. “I _hate_ you.” 

“I'm sure you look fine!” Jack shouted back. A chorus of female agreement came from the doorway. 

“I thought I told you to leave me out of your betting while you were here.” 

“You've never listened to me a day in your life, Daniel. Why should I start listening to you? Come on over, lets see how you look.”

“No.” 

“I'll send Vala in after you,” Jack threatened. 

“There is no need.” Teal'c appeared from behind his own row of lockers, dragging a reluctant Dr. Jackson with him. 

Cam almost choked, trying to hold back his laughter. He'd thought that Jack's whole wager had been totally ridiculous, start to finish; but he had to admit that the sight of Daniel (miserable) and Teal'c (stoic) in kilts was something that he, too, would have lost a bet to see. 

To his credit, the General didn't double over laughing at the sight of his friends. He couldn't disguise his smirk, though, as he looked them over. “Perfect! Alright, come on; lets go show off for the ladies and get this over with.” 

“If they have cameras, I am going to kill you,” Daniel warned as they trooped out. 

Cam was inclined to agree. “Hey, so what do you think the fallout will be if instead of doing this little fashion show, we run for the hills?” 

“None of that,” Jack snapped, hooking his arms firmly through either of theirs. “We face this like men. Tough. Proud.” 

The amusement on his face was anything but 'tough' as they walked back into the base proper to face the girls.


	12. L is for Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Cam misplaces his team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this really silly, childish image in my head of Cam misplacing the team on multiple occasions, whether because he's the new guy or because they actually are in trouble. It was fun, and it's an idea that I may _possibly_ expound on sometime in the future, after I've completed the soup. *wink*

“Crap.”

It seemed that far too many of Cameron Mitchell's sentences lately started with that word, or something like it. Pretty much every sentence lately, as a matter of fact; and that was a miniscule fraction of all the words he'd spoken since beginning his in-name-only gig as the leader of SG1. He was starting to hate Jack just a little bit, as insubordinate as that sounded. The General _must_ have known what he'd be getting himself into by requesting this job, and the man had gone ahead and given him the assignment anyways. 

Yeah, there was definitely a love-hate relationship with Jack. 

Jackson, Carter, and Teal'c weren't far behind at the moment, though. Cam had been running around in the woods looking for them for over an hour. Now, time-wise, that wasn't such a bad thing; but all three of them didn't _usually_ go AWOL at the same time. That they had today was problematic, though he supposed he should count his blessings; if Vala had still been linked to Daniel, she would have been yet _another_ person who needed looking after. Probably one who would get all of the other ones captured or trapped or generally in trouble in the first place. 

“ _Crap_.” He needed to come up with a better line for this. “Alright, man, breathe. The gate's not far, the village isn't far, and you've only been out of contact for an hour. They can't be...far...” His logic could probably use improving, too. 

Mitchell was beginning to wonder if SG1 was secretly – or not so secretly – cursed, and if it had something to do with General O'Neill's leaving. Certainly Jack hadn't _lost_ his teammates off-world more than once a week...right?

How exactly did one lose track of two hundred-plus pounds of Jaffa, anyways?


	13. M is for Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vala knows what means the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. This turned out a tiny bit shippy, which wasn't what I was going for; but I actually really like it in the context of this moment.

It's the little moments that mean the most to her. 

Sure, the big things are important too; the life saving, the grand arguments that leave them fuming for days, the rare occasions when they share some brilliant epiphany and astound their team. She appreciates these, loves them. But it's the little things she cherishes. 

A flower in her hair, a shared meal, a smile of approval, a chaste kiss with no hidden motives. Each small gesture is a snapshot in her memory, a vivid picture that hints at perfection if she can but hold on. She carries on with her life, the day-to-day eventful and interesting and even fun; but she lives for these small moments with him. 

This is one of the reasons that she stays. Her life before this is dark and checkered, riddled with secrets and shame that she's afraid to acknowledge. She has never been _good_. But being on a team – a vital part of SG1 – just knowing him makes her a better person. For the first time she looks beyond the box that the universe has put her in and wants to be _more_. To exceed expectations. He has given her a taste of perfection and she wants to drink of it deeply. 

For the first time in her life she is important, wanted for more than her body or her intrinsic worth; and it matters to her that she earn this from her team. She's tried big, grand gestures, and they did help; but here too, she had found the power in moments. An act of obedience. An act of trust. A selfless sacrifice. 

She counts her life now in moments, instead of money.


	14. N is for Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Never give up! Never surrender!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late this week, but this is the blatant Galaxy Quest chapter because I couldn't resist; it was hugely fun to write this conversation. If you haven't seen the movie, you should check it out; it's hilarious! A fond and friendly bashing of sci-fi stereotypes.

_“Never give up! Never surrender!”_

Team movie night was a long-standing tradition for SG1. Depending on the week and who drew the lucky straw, the films had ranged over the years from The Simpsons to history lectures and taped coverage of major storms. When Cam joined the team, zombie B movies made a comeback like they hadn't since the early days, and Vala's additions had expanded their overall film repertoire considerably; she liked everything from chick flicks to _Die Hard_. 

Teal'c's tastes, while decidedly eclectic most of the time, were generally amusing, or somehow seemed to parody their own lives in the Jaffa's mind. His most recent pick – _Galaxy Quest_ – was no exception. 

“Never give up! Never surrender!” Cam mocked the screen, trying to copy the alien's expression. “Sounds almost like us, except not as cool.”

“And not all that accurate,” Daniel pointed out with a glance at the Colonel, “considering the fact that we all seem to surrender on a regular basis.”

“Do not!”

“No that's right, it's usually more like running away,” Vala commented absently. “Not that I'm one to talk, of course; but at least I'm honest about it. Aren't you proud of me?” She flashed a brief, blinding grin up at Daniel before re-focusing her attention on the screen. 

“Hey, I get us back in one piece, don't I? Or are you gonna say that's your job?” He raised an eyebrow at Sam. 

She shrugged a shoulder. “Actually, you have been doing a pretty good job of it on your own lately.”

Mitchell fairly glowed with the praise. “Okay,” he said, clapping his hands. “If we were this movie, which characters would we play? I'd be Jason, right?” 

Carter snickered. “You can be whoever you want to be as long as I don't have to repeat the damn computer,” she assured him, patting his shoulder. 

“Nah, that'd be Vala.” He dodged a swipe from the woman in question. “Oh, come on! You know it's true.”

“I'm more than an impressive bit of cleavage to this team, you know,” she sniffed. “How often do I save your butts out there? And besides, I'm not even allowed _near_ any computers right now.” There had been a small misunderstanding maybe a week back regarding an Air Force credit card and ebay. 

“Okay, fine, we'll get back to you,” Cam waved off her hand as she batted at his legs again. “Carter, if I had to cast you – gender aside – I'd say you were Brandon.”

Sam made a face. “The nerdy fanboy? That's what you come up with for me?”

“That's Cam!” Vala quipped. 

“He's the one that knows everything there is to know about...well, about everything. And it's ultimately him that saves the day,” he explained to her patiently, ignoring Vala's dig. “That's you.”

They were all quiet for a minute as Sam considered his reasoning. “Okay, fine,” she agreed after a minute. “But if I'm Brandon, you're Guy Fleegman.” 

“What?!”

“She does have you down.” Daniel was fighting a losing battle with a smirk. 

“What? No, no way! If anyone is the red shirt, it's you Jackson; aren't you always dying on us?” 

“While this is true, I do believe that based on your behavior, you are more suited to play the role of Guy, Colonel Mitchell.”

Cam shot the quietly smiling Teal'c his best glare. “Nope, no way man. Never.”

“Never give up!” Vala crowed gleefully. “Never surrender!”


	15. O is for Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Atlantis Sam misses her team. And can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again, a day late. Yesterday was ridiculous between work and rehearsals and family stuff I barely had time to breath, let alone think about posting. But here it is now! I wanted to do something dealing with Sam on Atlantis, because I have been in an Atlantis sort of mood lately. And they never really had the chance to deal much with that part of it on the show.

The gentle sound of the waves kept Sam awake at night. 

She'd never figured that of all the potential problems she could have run across while acting as leader of Atlantis, insomnia would make the cut. In the military, you just didn't get that. You learned to sleep when you could for as long as was safe, and you learned to do it literally anywhere. Over the course of her time in the Stargate program, she'd had more beds than she could count. Her house, her base quarters, her office, that one embarrassing time at the briefing table, and on countless worlds with as little shelter as the branches above her head or as much as a lavish palace. After all of that, she'd thought Atlantis would be easy for her.

Not so. The city itself was quiet once you closed the door, but the ocean never slept, and it was impossible to tune out. The breath of Atlantis was much different than Cheyenne Mountain, and she found the discrepancy surprisingly unbalancing. 

Of course, knowing that she was housed in the same section of the city as Rodney didn't exactly make her comfortable, either. 

ovo

Weekly status updates between the SGC and Atlantis always gave Sam mixed feelings. It was a boost to have a live connection with whoever was on the other side during any given check-in, but being so close and yet so far away always left her feeling melancholy. It wasn't something she could quite put into words – not on the city she was in charge of where people had given up so much more, at any rate – but she was homesick for her team. 

After one such check-in, Sam returned to her office to find an email from Earth awaiting her. She clicked it distractedly, but when she actually paused to read it, she couldn't help but smile. 

The address line was very proper, but the body of the message was anything but. There was a picture – a very large picture – of a plate of macaroons, underneath which were scrawled a few small, irreverent sentences. 

**To Colonel Samantha Carter, Atlantis Base, Pegasus**

_Yo, Carter! A little housewarming gift, since real cookies would probably not survive a trip through the gate._

_Hope you're enjoying your shiny new seat of command! The city had better be treating you right._

It was signed, also formally, **From Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell, Cheyenne Mountain**. Underneath was a small post-script, _ps. The band says hi, and we'd like our lead guitarist back if you can spare her!_ , followed by a winking emoticon.

By the time that they dialed in for their next scheduled check-in, Sam had had more than enough time to think up a reply. 

**To Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell, Cheyenne Mountain**

_Thanks for the “cookies”, Cam. Now why didn't yours come out like that?_

_Command...well, you know how command is. We've all got to do it some time, right? But the city has been good to me; other than being a floating city where the water makes so much noise that I've developed a textbook case of insomnia. Just my luck, huh?_

_Sorry, you're gonna have to wait a bit longer for your guitarist. These diva fits last longer than two weeks, I'm afraid. But keep the rest of that crazy band out of trouble for me, will you?_

**From Colonel Samantha Carter, Atlantis Base, Pegasus**

The next delivery that the Daedalus brought in included a personal package for Sam, filled with her favorite coffee, notes from the rest of SG1, and an enormous pair of fluffy earmuffs. _Hot pink_ fluffy earmuffs. She suspected Cam, with Vala's influence. 

The note with the gift read; _See if these help you rest._

She doubted it, but it was the thought that counted.


	16. P is for Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Cam tells Vala she's special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so in spite of the fact that tomorrow is Valentine's Day, this is not mean to be shippy, just cute. The two of them, while they didn't interact very much on the show, they had a great friendship (probably because Ben and Claudia are amazing, haha), and I wanted to give them a nice little moment to talk. This is actually probably one of my favorites of the soup. (:

"Hey, Princess,” Cam drawled, joining her on the doorstep that she was currently occupying as they waited for Daniel and Teal'c to finish a meeting with the town historians. “What's shakin'?”

"Why do you call me that?" Vala asked, scooting over to give him a bit of room on the stoop.

Cam blinked at her. “Hm?”

"Princess. I've known you for over two years, and I still can't tell if you're teasing me or not.”

"Man, if you can't even tell my jokes any more, maybe you're losing your touch.”

Vala made a face at him. "Don't remind me. I haven't told a lie in _weeks_."

"Hey, that one _was_ a joke,” he rubbed her shoulder. “Would you relax? You need to learn to loosen up a little." Actually, loosening up was the last thing that Vala needed to be worried about; but the comment had the desired effect, and she smiled. He tapped her chin gently. "There, see? Smiling is better."

Vala rested her chin in her hand and continued to smile at him. "You never answered my question," she reminded him sweetly. "Changing the subject is hardly going to distract me from that."

 _Busted_. Might as well take it like a man. "I call you Princess 'cos you are one," he explained. "And not the spoiled, self-centered brat you acted like when I first met you. Well, mostly not that – Hey!” She shoved his shoulder. “You're loyal,” he continued quickly, “and intelligent, albeit a little controlling, and anyone with eyes can see that you're beautiful..."

"Now, Cameron, if I didn't know better I'd think you were flirting with me."

Cam laughed and shook his head. "Nope, I'm staying out of that territory,” he said firmly. “Too much drama, too much potential to get my head shoved in a meat grinder if I break your heart...and that goes double for me if someone _else_ breaks your heart, by the way. I'll kick the guy's butt from here to the Ori galaxy, and back again. And maybe take a side trip to Pegasus if he's a special kind of jerk. Why are you laughing at me?" Vala was laughing so hard that she was shaking, and he had to catch her arm before she fell off the stoop. “Okay, now that time I was serious! Quit laughing!” 

“Oh I'm sorry, love,” she apologized when she had caught her breath. “I've just never had one protector before, let alone three of them. And if a meat grinder is what it sounds like, I'm reasonably certain you don't want that pretty head of yours stuck in one.” 

“That _was_ kind of the point of the analogy.” 

Vala ruffled his hair. “Yes, and I'm sure you were brilliant in coming up with it.”

“Out of everything that I just said to you, you took away not the compliments, but the image of my head in a meat grinder?” Cam shook his head. “Next nickname you get ain't gonna be nearly as pretty as Princess.” 

“Now who can't take a joke?”

Cam looked at her, and her eyes were sparkling. “Imagine the things you could do if you used those powers for good,” he said appreciatively. “And by good, of course, I mean making Jackson look like a fool instead of me.”

“Oh, but Daniel doesn't really need any help with that, does he? The second I walk into a room he becomes quite speechless. Very cute.”

“Another talent of a true princess.” Cam mimed tipping a hat, and she laughed and sketched a little bow.

“I like it, by the way,” she said after a minute. “The nickname, I mean. And it's _not_ because I'm self-centered – I'm getting better about that, you know! – it's...it's nice to be known as something other than Qetesh. Before you ask, no, this is not going to turn into a long and boring sob story about my checkered past; I just wanted to say thank you. And don't make a big deal about it, because this is the last time you'll be hearing those words from me for a very long time.” 

It was a rare thing for Vala to talk about Qetesh, and even less common for her to intentionally turn a conversation more serious. She really had grown. Cam decided to humor her for the time being. “You're welcome,” he said simply. “But don't think just 'cos you _are_ sort of a princess now that you're going to get any special privileges. I'm still in charge, you know, and I'm the one who gets to decide who gets what, and when.” 

“Oh, please,” she snickered. “You haven't controlled a thing since the day I met you, and it's only gotten worse.” 

“That's not true!”

“Didn't your mother ever teach you not to lie, Cameron?”

“Okay, so maybe I'm not _really_ in charge; but a guy can dream, can't he?” 

“There's a fine line between dreams and delusions, love. You crossed that a long time ago.”

The argument escalated from there, resulting in the two of them trying to push each other off the steps. Daniel and Teal'c exited the building just as they both succeeded in falling in the dirt, laughing all the way. There were murmurs of shock from the village historians, but Teal'c merely smiled and Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm going to regret asking about this, aren't I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the "Princess" thing...I could swear that I remember hearing it in an episode -- and I certainly read it in fic -- but I can't for the life of me remember WHICH episode. Anybody got a better memory than me?


	17. Q is for Quirks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Hank Landry makes sense of life.

It takes a while for Hank to learn all of SG1's quirks.

Carter only eats blue jello, and he isn't sure why. But none of the team is teasing her about it anymore, so he figures that's just normal. She also tends to forget that not everyone has a degree in astrophysics when she's explaining things, and that _does_ still get her crap from the team. But it's good-natured ribbing and she blushes and shoves them and gets back to work. She also laughs when anyone mentions lemons, and Hank still can't quite figure that one out. 

Dr. Jackson is notorious for falling asleep in his office. Landry is more than a little surprised when he finds out that the man actually does keep an apartment in the city, and that it's fairly nice underneath all of the artifacts and old copies of National Geographic. Jackson, like Carter, has a tendency to ramble when he's given the floor (though his monologues often stray down the path of historical significance that is probably fascinating, but is in no way relevant with the team's objective). Daniel likes his coffee hot and constant, his meals when his team drags him away, and has a ridiculous and quite unwarranted tendency towards death or near-death. Hank dreads that paperwork ever coming across his desk. 

Teal'c is difficult to read, but since even Jack didn't always get the man, Hank decides that he's doing okay. The Jaffa is quiet but insightful, and he has a streak of loyalty that borders on obsessive. He has an affinity for hats and strange sci-fi B movies, and Landry sometimes wonders if he takes Star Wars as fact rather than fiction. He is also stubborn; but since Hank has never met a member of SG1 (past or present) who lacked this character trait, this one takes no time to understand at all.

Mitchell is the poster boy for military good behavior. Initially, Hank doesn't initially find him all that unique outside of this. But he finds it impossible to knock the shine from his General's stars in the kid's eyes, and he has an almost grating hero worship of SG1 that leads him to much hazing and many friendly barbs about the team's resident fanboy. He realizes that he's in charge only in title and he likes it that way, trusting his team to do what they do best. He likes baking (though he really shouldn't try), and will consume any type of baked goods no matter how terrible they come out. He quotes his grandma. He also has a thing for Hank's daughter that the General is keeping an eye on, though he thinks he'll let it play out for now.

Vala is the easiest for him to understand, which comes as a surprise even for him. But he can spot a daughter with daddy issues a mile away (Carolyn had pretty much written the book on it), and this woman has it in spades. He figures that rebellion stemming from this and her time as a host can account for almost all of the flaws in her character, from the flirtatious streak that he really probably should address (though her infatuation with Jackson is pretty amusing) to the sticky fingers that have nearly gotten her the boot on more than one occasion. Hank is willing to overlook these things because he understands her better than he understands his own daughter sometimes, and he can see the desire to belong in (or in _spite_ of) everything that she does, and he figures that a few quirks really aren't that much of a problem. Besides, he hasn't met someone who could really give him a challenge playing poker in _years_.


	18. R is for Restricted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another Brilliant Plan by Jack O'Neill...

“Can you even read that sign?” 

Jack was pretty sure that last time he'd checked, he could read. But in the interest of humoring Daniel, he stopped, studied the lettering on the door for a moment, and repeated the word to himself. Wait...

...Yup, he could still read. “Yes I can. Can you get the door, T?” 

Teal'c hesitated. “As you wish, Colonel O'Neill. However, I believe that Daniel Jackson and Major Carter are correct in suggesting that we find an alternate point of access to this facility.” 

Jack frowned at each of them in turn. Carter rubbed her neck and looked away, Daniel frowned back, and Teal'c looked mildly concerned, which meant that he was probably freaking out on the inside. “Okay, fine, I'll bite. What's the problem with this entrance?”

“It says _Restricted_ on it,” Daniel said bluntly. 

Jack blinked at him. “Oh, well in that case...let's move it before someone comes along and finds us here.” 

“Do you even _understand_ the word 'restricted'?”

“Daniel, please.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Just because I don't use my brain doesn't mean I don't have one. Right, Carter?”

Sam turned bright red and looked away again. “I'd rather not get involved in this one, Sir.”

“Oh, gee, thanks for the loyalty.”

“Jack, we're not even supposed to be here in the first place.”

“Well good. That means that everything is technically restricted, so the sign doesn't matter. Now come on!” 

ovo

“Let me get this straight,” Janet looked around to include the lot of them, taking in blood and bruises and ill-disguised limps, “you knew that the area was restricted, and yet you waltzed right in, anyways?” Not that it should surprise her really; this _was_ SG1, after all. 

“Pretty much.” Daniel was glaring at Jack, who was studiously avoiding his gaze. 

“And then...?”

“I believe that the phrase is, _we had our asses handed to us_ ,” Teal'c said gravely. His own disapproving gaze was also focused on Jack.

“It was bad,” Carter concluded, wincing when opening her mouth pulled at a cut on her cheek. 

Janet had to hide a smile, satisfied that their injuries were mostly superficial aside from Jack's limp. “All because Jack walked through the wrong door?” she asked. 

Jack threw his hands in the air and nearly fell out of his seat. “For the last time, I didn't know that _restricted_ meant _dangerous criminals imprisoned here_!” he burst out. “None of _Daniel's_ dictionaries have ever given me that definition.”

“It's common sense, Jack!”

Janet shook her head and excused herself. Her staff could deal with their injuries just fine, and if she had to spend another minute bearing witness to Jack's righteous indignation, she thought she might actually break a rib from holding back her laughter.


	19. S is for Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one that turned into poetry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I have no idea how this happened, or why most of these decided not to rhyme. Jack, Jonas, and Vala are my favorites.

**Jack O'Neill**

Safe is what he didn't keep his son  
Safe is where he should have kept his gun  
Safe is what he didn't want to be  
But Safe he kept the other three  
Safe is getting through the gate  
Safe is a word he no longer hates  
Safe is a Team, and Friends, and Home  
And Jack O'Neill is not Alone

**Daniel Jackson**

He spends his time wrapped up in history  
Books and Ancient texts and ruins  
Artifacts that tell stories  
These are always understood  
People are fine, but they don't make sense  
Human interaction is not what he's made for  
So he wraps himself in history and research  
In Daniel Jackson's mind, he's safer

**Samantha Carter**

Anything can be quantified  
She may not have the answer yet  
But she knows it's out there  
And each new discovery brings her closer  
There is comfort in math and equations  
Formulas are logical  
Sam Carter focuses on the facts  
She feels safer this way

**Teal'c**

His is a warrior  
He knows pain and pleasure  
And poor and plenty  
And he is stronger for it  
His body does not fail him  
But if it did  
It would fail protecting his team  
Teal'c does not need to be safe, as long as they are

**Jonas Quinn**

Knowledge is power  
He doesn't care much about power  
He knows the consequences too well  
But information is his stronghold  
He learns all he can  
Experiences as much as possible  
Because if he understands things  
Jonas will be safe

**Cameron Mitchell**

Above the blue sky  
He's never more comfortable than in the cockpit  
Flying high above the world  
Planes are his element, and he knows it  
On the ground he has his team  
And he wouldn't have it any other way  
Because as good as a gun in his hand is  
Alone, Cam is only safe in the sky

**Vala Mal Doran**

Safe: something you break into  
Safe: a weapon in your hand  
Safe: an illusion of peace  
Safe: something you can never be  
Safe: your own ship, and no rules  
Safe: a place to hide and rest  
Safe: a team, who finds you beyond hope  
Safe: Vala Mal Doran


	20. T is for Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes down to trust, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been meaning to tag Memento Mori for a very long time, it's long been a favorite of mine and there's just so much THERE. Also, Claudia Black is flawless *wink*.

You aim the zat as a reflex when Vala steps out from behind an oversized crate. Which is probably a good thing, considering that she is pointing a real gun at you and it is loaded with very real bullets. You try to smile reassuringly, but there's no recognition in her eyes, and she doesn't lower the weapon. 

You are struck by the difference in her. On one hand, this _is_ Vala, but everything about her energy is wrong. She's got the body, but none of the moves. This woman is confused and terrified and so very broken, and you have to wonder if the real Vala is even in there anymore. But you have to believe she is, because otherwise you've failed (and you can't _stand_ the thought of failing her, too). 

Her voice is shaking when she tries to order you aside, and the gun starts to shake when you don't obey (but then, her whole body is shaking so you only notice because you're paying attention). You discard the zat and raise your hands, trying to present a non-threatening figure and _hopefully_ someone that she'll hold off shooting until she's heard you out. You don't think she wants to hurt anyone, but she's scared and she's cornered and you know that it's survival. But you tell her the truth and hope she'll listen; promise your help and her safety and anything you can think of to help her to remember, to trust you. 

It all comes down to trust in the end. 

There are tears in her eyes by the time you're done. The bruise on her jaw stands out clear and ugly on her pale skin. You watch carefully, and her eyes squeeze shut for a second; and when they open again there's a spark of _something_ there. Maybe not everything, not yet, but maybe something is enough. You hope to God that it is.

_“...Daniel?”_

Her voice is frightened and unsure and desperate, but you smile and nod and then her gun is in your outstretched hand and she's falling into your arms, clinging tightly as she cries into your shoulder. You wrap your free arm around her and hold her close, breathing in a smell that's a little dusty and greasy and cheaply perfumed, but most certainly _Vala_. And nothing has ever smelled so good. 

You can tell by the tension in her muscles that she still doesn't understand, not completely; but that's okay. Right now, her trust is enough. 

Everything else is just healing from here.


	21. U is for Undress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vala comes upon her teammates in various states of undress...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't as dirty as it sounds. It _was_ one of my favorite snippets to write, however. Gotta love these crazy kids. (:

Vala leaned against the doorframe, a slow smile spreading over her face as she watched Cam and Teal'c appreciatively. The two of them were sparring, the Jaffa presumably teaching Mitchell some new style of Kung-Fu, or whatever it was that he was favoring these days (Vala had seen the dvds in his room). While she didn't particularly care to challenge him herself – not that she wasn't sure that she _could_ , but she would always chose an alternative over a straight fight – she wouldn't lie and say she'd never imagined this scenario.

Just because she didn't want to try her hand, though, didn't mean she couldn't thoroughly enjoy the sight of two strong, bare-chested men whacking each other with sticks _Oops. That sounds dirty, even for me._ She couldn't really be blamed though, could she? Sweat and muscle defined every inch of their exposed skin, and if she embellished the fantasy just a little, Vala could almost imagine that they were fighting over her.

She was expanding this idea when Mitchell noticed her. “Vala? What are you – ow! Hey, Teal'c!” The second the Colonel had looked away, Teal'c had swept his feet out from under him. Vala giggled as Cam swore from the mat. “What the hell was that, man?” 

Teal'c offered him a hand and tugged him to his feet. “You cannot allow yourself to become distracted during battle,” he admonished. “If I had intended to kill you, I most certainly would have succeeded when you turned away.” He nodded at Vala with a small smile. “Thank you, Vala Mal Doran, for illustrating this lesson.” 

Vala grinned. “Oh, no problem. Any time! Any excuse to watch the two of you take your shirts off and hit each other is a profitable one, in my opinion.” 

She had the further pleasure of seeing Cameron's face turn quite red as he huffed and spluttered about that. “Would you go bother Jackson or something?” he finally managed. 

As much as Vala was enjoying his discomfort, finding Daniel did sound like an excellent idea. With a blown kiss and a smile, she left them in peace and headed off to Daniel's office. Maybe if she was very lucky, he'd be shirtless, too. 

o

Attractive as ever, Daniel was unfortunately very fully clothed. And he wasn't very receptive when she suggested that he remedy the situation. 

“Absolutely not!” he exclaimed, defiantly tugging on his jacket. 

“Oh, but Cameron and Teal'c are doing it. You don't want to be left out, do you?” 

“You know, I am oddly okay with that. Shocker.”

“Come on, darling. It's not as if any of these dusty old artifacts are going to care of you show off your finely muscled chest and biceps and abs...” She poked him lightly in the stomach. 

Daniel swatted her hands away. “Does it even occur to you how ridiculous this conversation is?”

“It's only ridiculous because you refuse to see reason.” 

“Oh, _reason_ , is that what we're calling this today?”

Vala slid her hands up his arms and rested her wrists on his shoulders. He tensed, but didn't immediately push her away, so that was a plus. “Oh, darling,” she whispered. When his glasses got in the way of a proper deep gaze into his eyes, she took them off, stroking his forehead in the process. “We can call it whatever you'd like, as long as it doesn't stop here.” 

For a second neither of them moved, and their faces were close enough that she could feel him breathing. “Is this foreplay?” she whispered. “Because I'd take your glasses off more often if I knew it was such an effective seduction technique.”

Daniel's hands clamped firmly on her wrists, and he pushed her back to a safe distance. “Not foreplay,” he clarified. “Definitely not.”

It was harder to make him blush now; Vala considered that a certain kind of progress. She flashed him a grin. “A girl can dream, can't she?” she winked. 

“Oh, gosh.” Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't want to know what you dream about!”

“Now why would I ever tell you that?” 

She thoroughly enjoyed the frustrated (and possibly affectionate) look on his face. “Can I have my glasses back?” 

“Um, I was actually going to keep them; my 'start of undressing Daniel Jackson' trophy, you might say.” 

“Vala!” 

And there was that blush. “Fine,” she sighed theatrically, handing them over. “You are no fun today, Daniel. Honestly.” 

Daniel snorted. “Okay, be honest. You were messing with me and enjoying it.” 

“Of course! But the point is that _you_ need to enjoy it, darling.” She pecked a quick kiss to his cheek. “I'll leave you to your love affair with the dusty artifacts, now. But they're not nearly as attractive as me!”

ovo

That night, Vala found herself at Sam's house, sitting on the bed and watching her friend dig through the large closet that seemed quite well stocked for someone who rarely wore anything but BDUs. Pity Sam was bigger than she was, because there were a few items that Vala would have loved to borrow (With permission, of course).

“Samantha, I don't see why you're so concerned,” she commented when a frustrated squawk came from the closet. “It's a team dinner; it isn't as if they're going to care what you wear. Actually, less is probably more, in this case.”

There was an ill-disguised laugh from the depths of the closet. “Not funny, Vala.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It's not just a team dinner; it's a celebration, and while the idea is a little silly, it's kind of a big deal. General O'Neill is even coming out from Washington for the occasion.” 

“Ah, so you want to look good for the _General_. Now _that_ makes more sense.” 

“No!” Sam poked her head out of the closet, and her cheeks were as red as the lobster they'd had last week. “In spite of what all the romance novels tell you, in the _real_ world, everyone is not secretly in a relationship. Stop matchmaking.” 

“Would you rather be with Cameron, then?”she asked, doing her best to look innocent. “I have it on good authority that he looks quite attractive shirtless!”

Sam threw a shoe at her. “Stop matchmaking,” she repeated, retreating back into the closet. But Vala thought she heard something about 'funnier when he loses his pants' muttered from inside. 

“What sort of party is this, again?” she asked, studying the shoe-turned-projectile-weapon. It was actually quite a pretty shoe, and if the match was somewhere in that deathtrap disguised as a closet, they would look rather nice with that lacy top over there...

“It's an 'anniversary of your second return from the dead' party for Daniel.” Sam's voice was muffled behind a solid wall of clothing. “Jack's idea, and he's probably using it as an excuse to get away from Washington and the politics.” 

“You don't think he misses you all?” 

“Oh, I'm sure that he does; but twenty bucks says his official line tonight is 'I wanted to escape the politics for the weekend'.”

“I'll take that bet,” Vala hopped off the bed and crossed the room, tripping over the mate of Sam's thrown shoe on the way. She took that and the top she'd noticed, and started flipping through the first row of hangers. “And how many times is it that my Daniel has died?” She really didn't like the thought of that, though she supposed that she'd joined the club with the whole being burned alive thing. 

“Including that time with Adria and Merlin?” Sam questioned. 

“He didn't really die that time.” 

“Right. Well...actually, I've lost count. I'm sure that there's a tally somewhere, though.” 

“That man has more lives than one of your domestic felines.” 

There was a snicker from somewhere inside the closet. “Did Teal'c teach you that one?” 

“What?”

“Never mind.” 

“Look, Samantha, will you come out of there? I can barely hear you, and you're going to kill yourself, or break a leg or something in that mess.” 

“Vala, I need to find something to wear.”

Vala rolled her eyes. Never had she pegged Sam to be the girl who worried over what to wear. The confident ownership of everything that she did apparently hadn't extended to off-base wardrobe. “Get out of there and let me work my magic.” She grabbed another item of clothing and shoved the whole pile into Sam's arms as she stumbled out of the disaster area. “Get changed.” 

“What? Vala, I can't wear this –”

“ _You_ asked me to come over and help you get ready to wow the boys tonight. Now, that outfit is going to turn them redder than you are right now, and I have yet to see General O'Neill blush. I will not have you ruining that opportunity for me, do you understand?” 

“But –” 

“No buts! There's only one butt I'm interested in, and sorry honey, it's not yours. Now get dressed before I have to knock you out and do it for you.” She raised an eyebrow, and Sam sighed in defeat and took the clothes. 

“I'm going to look ridiculous, you know,” she warned, exchanging her t-shirt for the lacy white top that Vala had selected.

“You are going to look amazing,” Vala assured her, turning her back while Sam changed and approaching her jewelry box. “If all of those boys aren't shocked speechless by your ravishing beauty, then they are blind and stupid and you should find a new job. Though, considering their gender, blind and stupid isn't a _terrible_ stretch... Oh, quit grumbling at me like that and put those heels on.”

o

Not surprisingly, every man in the restaurant was indeed speechless. “See?” Jack said when he had recovered. “Now you are _much_ prettier than the politics and politicians.” He shuddered. 

Sam blushed and grinned. Vala slipped her a twenty.


	22. V is for Value

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some things change and others don't, and Cam always has his team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter coming off of another Cam-centric project (that I'll probably post this weekend if I can get it edited in time), and it turned into a vague sort of tag to that, ish, though I think it stands nicely apart too.

Cam knows that what he has is too good to last forever. 

He's not self-absorbed enough to believe that he alone can keep SG1 together after the threat of the Ori is defeated; they're here because they have to be. He knows that. They've grown close during their fight; but the original SG1 was close, too, and they had still moved on. He's grown up enough in the time he's been leading these exceptional people not to take it personally. 

Sam is the first one to leave. He can't even begrudge her that, because with a shiny new promotion and an even shinier ship, he might have made the same choice. She's too important for him to be selfish about keeping her, anyways. But she's still the first one that he goes to when he needs someone. The fact that she always makes the time for him makes Cam feel like he's got an older sister looking out for him, and surprisingly he likes the feeling.

Teal'c never officially leaves the team, but he splits his time between Earth and his family and trying to regroup the Free Jaffa – again – and Cam counts himself lucky when the big guy asks if he can still join them on missions. When he follows up with “it is an honor to serve under your command”, Cam has to consciously hold himself together. Somehow, the respect means more to him because Teal'c chooses to return. 

He loses Daniel to Atlantis, which doesn't surprise him in the least. The pull of the City has always been strong on him; more than anyone else, he remained out of necessity rather than any real desire to stay. Cam's always been grateful that he stayed as long as he did. He still visits – and Cam makes sure to let General O'Neill know so that he can harass him properly – but he's being an archaeologist now, not a member of the flagship. Cam has to admit it suits him. It's always been what he wanted, anyways. 

While Cam expected to lose Vala when he lost Daniel, to his surprise she stays on. All she'll ever say about it is that she worked too hard to make it onto the team and prove herself, and all that time and effort would be wasted if she was to pick up and start over on Atlantis. She does convince Landry to let her keep a cargo ship that she acquires (fairly) on a mission, though, and every so often she'll disappear for a few days or a week or a month. Cam has learned not to ask questions. He's just happy that she always chooses to come back home. And he won't lie and say he doesn't love the looks on their new teammate's faces when she say something ridiculous and brilliant. 

It's certainly not the life he imagined when he said he wanted SG1, but in some ways it's better. A few years with the original team under his belt are a great safety net as he truly grows into his command and finds that he can swing it on his own. And they still manage to be there for him when he's falling. 

In some ways, they'll always be his team. 

This is worth more to Cam than the command itself.


	23. W is for Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas never gives up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I'm probably the most insecure about, because I've seen so little of Jonas (though I love him dearly). But I thought that he deserved a mention. It's more than the show gave him at the end *grumble*.

Jonas is waiting for the right time. 

He knows that the Ori cannot possibly be all-knowing, not by a long shot. If they were he would have been burned in the Ara as a blasphemer the day they arrived. He's seen it done, mostly to young, bright upstarts with just a little too much doubt and boldness. He thinks back to a time when he might have been one of them. 

He's grown up since Earth, since SG1. He learned from Jack the art of irreverence and a sharp tongue, and from Teal'c the value of silence in the face of adversity, and that sometimes doing nothing can be an advantage. He wants very much to stand up and denounce Origin from anyplace he can be heard, but he knows better than to be extraordinary. Instead he simply exists. He blends in, rising and eating and prostrating with the thousands of his people who have already accepted Origin, and he thinks. 

He perfects his plans and arguments, builds weapons in his head, keeps a record of every lie spouted form the Prior's mouth. Keeping his head down keeps him alive. Life gives him hope, because as long as he's breathing, he's waiting for the right moment. Whether to the Langaran rebellion he is involved in or the aid of SG1 (he has never stopped hoping that they'll come), he knows that one day the power of the Ori will falter and truth will be revealed.

It's a dangerous path to balance on, that in-between from the desolation of his world to victory over the Ori. Jonas treads it well. He's grown good at what his friends had sometimes called “the waiting game”. His search for O'Neill's approval had helped him perfect it. 

Jonas is waiting for the time to act.


	24. X is not for Annoying Instrument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...it is, however, for Xylophone. Teal'c sees little difference in the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a line in a lovely fic called "Saw This and Thought of You" by ArwenLune ("It's like giving the child of someone you don't like a drumset!"), and by the TWO xylophones that my baby sister got for Christmas.

Teal'c and Jack stood side by side, regarding the mysterious object that Daniel had dropped at their feet before hurrying back into his ruins. He'd mumbled something incoherent about “a whole new way of looking at this civilization”. Jack hadn't really understood what he was talking about, but he'd yelled his opinion of the matter at his friend's retreating back. Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow before focusing his full attention on the object. 

Jack gave it a tentative nudge with his boot. With a faint, rusty tinkle, a flat metal piece slid off the top and onto the ground. The sound brought back memories of fatherhood, and annoying relatives, and too-loud toys. 

He swore and jumped back. “Oh, hell no!” 

Teal'c's grip tightened on his weapon, but when Jack continued to merely stare at the object with horror, he visibly relaxed. “What is it?” he asked, the picture of calm. 

“It's a _xylophone_ ,” Jack grimaced at the word. “Evil thing.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.”

Teal'c frowned. “Then should we not render it incapable of performing its function?” he questioned. “Perhaps Daniel Jackson brought it for us to dispose of.”

Jack blinked at him. “You have no idea what a xylophone is, do you T?”

Teal'c inclined his head. “I am afraid that I have never before come across an object such as this.”

“Oh. Oh!” Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well basically, it's an instrument of the devil. People who don't like other people buy these things for their kids.” Jack shuddered. “Not pretty.” 

“Then they are used to harm the children of one's enemies?”

“What? No! The kids love 'em, actually; it's the parents who are tortured by the constant noise.”

Teal'c's left eyebrow twitched, raising just slightly. Jack could practically see him trying to process this description, unable to figure out how it equated to a dangerous object. He did keep his weapon aimed at the disintegrating lump on the ground, however. “I confess,” he said slowly, “that I am not certain of what danger – if any – could be caused by a child's toy.”

Jack sighed. “It's a musical instrument, Teal'c.” he tried, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And children with loud instruments are very dangerous things, indeed.”

The Jaffa considered this for a moment. “Much like when you insisted upon carrying a harmonica, and Hammond of Texas threatened you with bodily harm should you not refuse to turn it over to his safekeeping.”

Jack rubbed his neck, telling himself firmly that he wasn't turning red from embarrassment, because he had no reason to be embarrassed. “This is nothing like that,” he protested, “some of the other team leaders were getting jealous of my musical accomplishments, that's all.” 

“As I recall, the number of headaches that Doctor Fraiser was approached to treat was so great that she was forced to order new medicines.” 

“They could have had some sort of headache-inducing alien bug thing.”

Teal'c's eyebrow shot up again.

“They could have been suffering from some sort of food-born illness!” he insisted stubbornly. “There is no proof –” 

Teal'c blinked.

Jack sighed. “Okay, so maybe it was my fault! But at least I never tried to play _Row, Row, Row Your Boat!_ ”

It gave Jack an inordinate amount of joy to see Teal'c shudder at the memory. “Indeed,” he growled.


	25. Y is for Young Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Hank are absolutely _not_ grumpy old men...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so weird, being almost at the end of the alphabet!! I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself once I've finished this...

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face and took a sip of his beer, ignoring Hank's chuckle from across the table. “Shut up,” he grumbled. “You're not the one who has fourteen _thousand_ interviews to suffer through in the morning.” 

“I will be soon enough, once your recommendation goes through,” Landry reminded him, “seeing as you _did_ ask me to take your job.” 

Jack cracked an eye opened and pointed at his friend. “Exactly! This time next week the interviews will all be _your_ responsibility; see if you laugh once you're in charge of all the nut jobs at the SGC.” He gestured vaguely. “You should be showing sympathy right now.” 

To his credit, Hank stopped laughing; but there was still entirely too much amusement in his voice for Jack's liking. “I won't be commanding you, will I? I think that pretty much clears up the problem of nut jobs.” 

His mouth opened to reply, Jack thought the better of it. Hank did sort of have a valid point. “You're gonna have to train the new guy to be a little crazy, then,” he said instead, sliding a file across the table for his friend's inspection. “He's a poster boy; perfect boyscout. Good guy, but playing by the rules makes things so much less interesting.” 

Flipping through the file, Hank ignored the comment. “Cameron Mitchell,” he read out loud. “Wounded in action...requested the position...” He looked up at Jack. “This kid's got guts.”

“I'll give him that,” Jack allowed, swallowing another mouthful of beer. “Like I said, he's good – too perfect, almost – but he's young.” 

“We were all young once, Jack.” 

“Once.” He failed to hide his grimace at the reminder. He'd never admit it out loud, but that was one of the reasons he'd accepted the DC job; he was getting too damn old for this crap. “He's gonna have to grow up real fast once he gets out there.”

“Speaking of,” Hank handed the file back and nursed his own beer, “does he know that the SG1 he remembers have all gone their separate ways? Seems to me he requested the assignment to work with the four of you, as you were at the time.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “It'll be good for him,” he said defensively. “Build character.” 

“And it's no accident, I suppose, that you've scheduled him to come in a week _after_ your big move to Washington?” Hank's eyes narrowed, and Jack matched the expression. He tried his best not to look ridiculously guilty. 

“It'll build _your_ character, too.”

“Hm. I thought as much.” 

“Hey, at least you'll have Carter and Teal'c if you get stuck with him; even Daniel for a few days before the traitor goes off to Atlantis...what idiot authorized _that_ , I'll never know.” He frowned, then regathered his train of thought. “The point is, you'll have it easy. This is the first time in over eight years that the program isn't being threatened by some new crazy alien bent on total domination. Enjoy it while you can. And have some fun breaking in the young blood.” He winked and raised his beer. “To the new commander of the SGC!” he toasted. 

ovo

Almost a month later, Jack received an email from Landry that had him laughing out loud. He scared his secretary half out of her wits. 

**Message Subject:** _Young Blood?_

Jack,

You sent me into this thinking that “young blood” meant Lt. Colonel Mitchell and my daughter; and yet somehow I've ended up with the addition of half your disgruntled, reluctant team, and a space pirate who I can't get rid of? I wouldn't be surprised if you orchestrated _that_ little gem just to keep Dr. Jackson on Earth. 

All very funny, Jack. Young blood, my ass...


	26. Zed is for Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which certain important Tau'ri rituals are upheld...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (as a point of interest, the date that Vala chose corresponds with the very last scene in Memento Mori; it's the day she got her SG1 patches.)

“A zoo? You _are_ kidding, right?” 

“I assure you, Daniel Jackson, that I am in no way to attempting to be childish, or humorous.” 

“Oh, I don't think it's _funny_ ,” Daniel corrected. “I'm just not sure that you know what you're asking for.” 

“Vala Mal Doran has informed me that her birthday is approaching. As a gift, I would like your help to organize a team outing to a zoo, as she has requested this on more than one occasion.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Have I stated the situation to your understanding?” 

Mouth hanging opened, it was a minute before Daniel was able to form coherent words and sentences. “You do know that it's not _actually_ her birthday, right? It's just a date that she picked off the calendar for her papers. We're not obligated to give her gifts for a fake birthday.” 

“I believe that the chosen date holds special significance to her,” Teal'c told him. He was no longer smiling quite so much. “Also, are birthdays not a favored Tau'ri ritual? Vala Mal Doran has not yet experienced this tradition, and you would be remiss in your duties as an upholder of culture and tradition if you did not allow her to participate in this ritual.” He paused for a beat, his eyes flickering away thoughtfully. “I am sure, of course, that you are in no way intending to ignore this; rather, your questions are merely to ensure that I correctly understand the significance of these traditions.” 

Studying his friend's face carefully, Daniel was pretty sure that the Jaffa was teasing him. Mostly sure. He was really hoping so. Failing, he knew, would probably result in punishment in the form of a “friendly” spar.

That was definitely not an option.

“Alright, fine, I'll see what I can do,” he sighed. 

The smile that spread over Teal'c's face was entirely too satisfied to be innocent; Daniel had been played. “Thank you, Daniel Jackson. I shall inform Colonels Carter and Mitchell of our plans.” 

Resigning himself to the fact that he had just started the ball rolling for an utter disaster, Daniel waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Let them know...I'll just be here, slamming my head into the wall until I wake up from this nightmare.” 

“I would not advise this course of action, as it would not enable you to begin the necessary preparations.” 

“I think you're missing the point – oh wait, I get it. You're teasing me. Haha, very funny. I'm dying of laughter right now, really.”

“You appear to be laughing on the inside.” 

_end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've reached the end. Thank you all so much for everything -- reading, commenting, kudos, bookmarks, and those of you who kept me sane (you know who you are). I am so grateful for every one of you. God bless. (:


End file.
